


Sweet & A Taste of Honey

by Rospberry



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-14
Updated: 2007-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:58:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rospberry/pseuds/Rospberry
Summary: Two drabbles and a fic. Sweet: Will's sick. A Taste of Honey: Will's feeling better…and there's some honey left over.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote a wee drabble, Sweet, and then another drabble to follow it, A Taste of Honey. Then decided it merited something longer so wrote a longer fic as an alternative to A Taste of Honey. Confused? Just read...  
> Oh, and huge thanks to my fab beta mayalaen.

Sweet

Allan slid along the bench; his hand, hidden by the table, slipped inside the front of Will's breeches.

"Go 'way," Will rasped, half-glancing at him through bleary eyes. "'M not well." He punctuated the last word with a cough.

The hand pulled away. "Anybody tell you, mate, you're a right pain in the arse when you're sick?"

Will groaned and dropped his aching head onto his folded arms.

A thump on the table jarred him awake, and he looked up. He saw Allan's mug, full of boiling water, and a pot of honey with a spoon sticking out.

He sniffed.

*

A Taste of Honey (the drabble)

The honey slithered down his cock, the heat of his skin turning sugar into syrupy smoothness, and Allan could only groan as Will's hot tongue licked at the golden-coloured liquid.

He gasped as Will's head dipped again, the tip of his tortuous tongue barely flicking against skin.

The tongue began lapping at the honey, and Allan writhed, trying to goad Will into taking him fully into his mouth, wanting – _no, needing _– to feel the release he knew the practiced mouth could provide.__

But this was payback, for his insensitivity, and Allan could only suffer as Will continued the torture.

*

A Taste of Honey (the alternative ficlet)

Will was lying on top of the pile of blankets that currently constituted his bed when Allan thumped down beside him.

"Will?"

"Yeah, what?" Will didn't open his eyes.

"You feeling better?"

Will opened his eyes suspiciously. "A bit. Why?"

"Nothin'," Allan said with mock innocence. "Just wonderin', that's all. You still look a bit pasty."

"I feel completely knackered," Will admitted, slowly pushing himself into a sitting position, letting the blankets bunch up behind him to form a partial pillow. He was aware of Allan's bright stare, and he shook his head. "No way am I up for anything, if that's what you're here for."

"Did I say anythin'?" Allan asked. "A bloke comes to enquire about your health, and you immediately make assumptions… That gets me right here, that does." Allan thumped a fist against his chest. "'Sides, I was just wonderin' if you were finished with the honey? And the mug?"

Will narrowed his eyes but nodded. "Yeah, thanks. They're here," he said, starting to turn away and reach out for them; they were lying a few feet away.

"Hang on, mate, I'll get them," Allan chastised, getting to his knees and leaning over Will to pick up the honey pot. The spoon fell onto the leaf-covered ground, and Allan tutted. "Look at that, I've dropped the spoon." He flattened further across Will's lap, bobbing his hips down, and brushing himself against Will.

Will was tired, exhausted even, but there were certain parts of his anatomy that were suddenly very alert, and he groaned. "Allan…"

"Yeah?" The other man twisted, his own bulging breeches pressing firmly against Will's groin, and Will saw he was grinning. "Somethin' wrong?" he asked innocently.

"You're a bastard," Will hissed.

Allan shrugged. "And?"

"Just get off."

Allan grabbed the spoon and pot, hooked the mug with his finger, and slid back across Will; the younger man didn't miss the muttered, "That's exactly what I'm trying to do, mate."

Allan sat back on his haunches and regarded the swell in Will's trousers. "Looks like you've got a problem there," he said. "Want me to take care of it?"

"Oh God, Allan, just go 'way." Will was vaguely embarrassed, and in his weakened state, he felt at a disadvantage – never a good idea with Allan around. "I'm tired."

"Not being funny, mate, but you're never going to get to sleep like that."

"I'll manage."

"Don't be daft; it'll just take a second," Allan said, leaning forwards, and ignoring Will's weak protestations, undoing the laces on his breeches. He slid them down over Will's narrow hips and let the younger man's eager cock free of its fabric confines.

The chill of the air hit Will's tender flesh, but rather than cool his ardour, it made him harder. He squeezed his eyes closed. "Allan…" he said again, but this time it was more of a groan.

"Lie still," he heard Allan say softly, and he let his head drop back.

Expecting the familiar feel of a rough hand, he gasped when he felt something cold drip onto his skin; his eyes snapped open.

Allan was holding the honey pot over his groin, the honey slowly pouring over the lip and dribbling over Will's cock. "Wh- What are you doing?" Will gasped, his breath catching in his throat with every slithering drip of honey on his sensitive flesh.

With a devilish grin, Allan glanced at him, the blue of his eyes almost hidden by the black of his pupils. "Seemed a shame to waste this," he said, tossing the now empty honey pot over his shoulder. "Was feeling a bit hungry anyway," he added, and swiftly lowered his head. With one long swipe of his tongue, he licked a swathe of honey from the side of Will's cock.

"Bloody hell-" Will gasped, arching back and thrusting his hips. Allan grinned and dipped his head again, his tongue stealing more sticky sweetness from Will's skin as the younger man groaned.

Will's hands were fisted in the blankets, and he panted, writhing beneath the lapping mouth as Allan set about removing every last drip of honey with flicking licks and soft, slow sweeps. It was too much, too intense, and Will wanted to pull away - _thrust up_ \- twist out of Allan's reach. Allan slid closer, never once lifting his head as he straddled Will's legs, calloused hands gripping his hips tightly and holding him still.

In one movement, his mouth descended on Will's weeping cock, sucking off the traces of honey in one hot mouthful. Will let out a keening sound and gripped the fabric beneath his hands tighter; gasping as the older man lowered his head again, tongue pressing roughly against the underside of Will's cock as he drew his mouth up and off. Will was barely aware as Allan removed one hand and shoved it inside his own breeches, fisting his own swollen cock and stroking as he lowered his head again.

Once, twice he swallowed, and then Will was coming; coming so hard he couldn't control the bucking of his body, the babbling nonsense words spewing from his lips.

Above him, Allan was swallowing hard and moaning, his own sounds of pleasure muted by Will's cock as he stroked himself over the edge, coating the insides of his breeches with his own sticky seed.

Gasping, Allan pulled away; a few final licks leaving Will clean before he pulled up Will's trousers. He smirked down at the flushed younger man. "Better?" he asked, his voice sounding hoarse.

Blinking, Will tried to focus; if he'd felt tired before, he couldn't even begin to describe how he felt now. "I hate you," he managed.

"I hate you, too," Allan said, lowering his head and capturing Will's mouth in a kiss, letting him taste the mixture of honey and pure Will that filled his mouth.

Will smiled against the kiss, and felt a pang of disappointment as the other man pulled away. "Are you going…?" he began to ask, the words petering off as Allan carefully eased himself down to the ground alongside him and tugged a couple of blankets free. He bunched one under head as a pillow and threw the other one haphazardly over both of them. Sliding an arm under Will's shoulders, he tugged him closer, his eyelids already fluttering closed.

Thrown by the turn of events, Will hesitatingly asked, "Allan?"

"Yeah?" came the sleepy response.

"What about the others?"

"They can get their own soddin' honey," Allan said, and his fingers tightened against Will's shoulder.

Will grinned and let himself relax, turning into Allan and pressing a kiss against Allan's closed lips.

"What was that for?" Allan asked, cracking open one eye.

"There was this little bit of honey…" The words cut off as Allan flicked his hand off the back of Will's head.

"Cheeky sod. Go to sleep; you still look pasty." The blue eye flicked shut.

Will grinned and did as he was told.


End file.
